


a little t & a

by scioscribe



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioscribe/pseuds/scioscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Season Two, Ryan comes bearing gifts.  Beecher isn't what he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a little t & a

It takes him a week, because he has shit on his mind, but Ryan finally gets into the infirmary to see Beecher. He brings pot in a little twist of pink cellophane and he rolls Beecher a joint and offers it to him before he realizes that Beecher can’t hold it except between his lips. Can’t fucking puff like that.

“Shit,” he says. “Sorry.”

Beecher shrugs with his mouth, somehow, a twist of it up, a twist of it down. “Trying to stay clean, anyway.”

Weed isn’t heroin, but Ryan understands: he doesn’t smoke anymore himself, either. He wonders if he should apologize for giving Beecher first weed, then heroin, then PCP, but Beecher doesn’t seem pissed about it, and anyway, he was only trying to help. He liked Beecher. Floppy-haired and big-eyed and soft, no threat to him. Like Cyril after he got his brains scrambled. He props his feet up on the edge of Beecher’s bed and says, “So you were fucking Keller, huh?” TV's been on the fritz all fucking week; he needs this shit, the soaps are off.

Beecher doesn’t answer except with his eyes.

“Fuck,” Ryan says softly. “Hey, you know, I could take care of that for you. As a favor.” Hey, he does like Beecher, after all. Beecher had his back during the riot, one, and Beecher told him that brown rice would be something he could stomach during the chemo and not even Gloria had told him that and it was the one thing he didn’t puke up an hour later, two, so he’s willing to do Beecher a little bit of favor, since Beecher doesn’t want tits to get him through his time lying here all splinted and sad-looking.

“No,” Beecher says. “I can take care of it,” and then he looks like Cyril _before_ Cyril got scrambled: flint-eyed and scary, scraggly hair, and Ryan thinks that it might be worthwhile to back away from him a bit if he has to, because there’s no more protecting he can do and fuck, _this_ Beecher would try to take him out if he had to.

He wouldn’t win, but he might try.

“Hey,” Ryan said, smiling, not knowing what to do about him and when to do it. “Feel better.”


End file.
